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<title>(Getting) Used To It by Neko-no-Tsuki (LunaKat)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365341">(Getting) Used To It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaKat/pseuds/Neko-no-Tsuki'>Neko-no-Tsuki (LunaKat)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Discrimination, Friendship, Gen, during Timeskip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:33:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>820</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaKat/pseuds/Neko-no-Tsuki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Miroku is <em>such</em> a bastard. No, really, he is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>InuYasha &amp; Miroku (InuYasha)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(Getting) Used To It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’s used to it by now.</p><p>It’s another village, another job, another extermination gone right. After a year and a half, it’s become routine—find the problem, slay it if needed (nothing like the perilous battles they’re used to, laughably easy), and then leave Miroku to haggle prices.</p><p>At present, the monk is negotiating with the village’s headman, his voice bright with good-natured laughter that counters the other man’s thunderous and affronted scowl. Inuyasha hangs back, arms crossed in the sleeves of his suikan, letting them hammer out details he could honestly care less about. All he’s here to do is swing his sword and kick ass when Miroku can’t kick it himself. After all, Miroku doesn’t have the Wind Tunnel anymore, and though he is capable in his own right, he’s also unarguably more vulnerable than he used to be. Sango is back in the village mothering their newborn twins, Kagome is back in the safety of her own time (because she <em>deserves</em> to live peacefully, goddammit), and Shippo is off galivanting around the countryside the way true youkai ought to, so it’s just them. Just them, and the occasional request that draws them back out to the open road, and the brief blink-and-you’ll-miss-it battles that just-barely stave off the itch of total boredom.</p><p>Like this. Right now. Boring.</p><p>So yeah. Inuyasha literally couldn’t care less about how much he has to carry back to the village—and he <em>will</em> inevitably carry it back, because Miroku uses him as a damn pack mule in addition to a bodyguard, the asshole—and he’s honestly not paying attention.</p><p>But then—</p><p>“I am not paying such an outrageous price,” the headman snaps, “when you’ve gone and brought that <em>thing</em> into my town.”</p><p>The muscles in Inuyasha’s shoulders go rigid. A glance to his periphery shows that Miroku’s smile has frozen on his face, gone tight and icy-white and a little too sharp.</p><p>The monk’s shakujou jangles as he lowers it slowly. His reply is spoken with the precise enunciation of someone who bides their time in the art of diplomacy and meticulously overthinking every word and trying to voice displeasure without outright saying it. “My companion and I have completed our task to your pleasure, have we not? The youkai is gone and will no longer plague your village or tear up your fields. I believe the compensation we request is not so outrageous a price to pay for continued peace.”</p><p>To which the headman just snorts, aiming a particularly black glare in Inuyasha’s direction. “And I suppose if I refuse, you’ll sic your beast on us?”</p><p>“...I don’t believe that is necessary.” There is a tension in Miroku’s words, the undercurrent of a warning.</p><p>“Humph! I’ll pay—but <em>only</em> on the condition that you leave right after.”</p><p>A long, long pause. It isn’t until Inuyasha feels warm wetness dripping down his arms that he realizes his claws were puncturing his skin. He breathes in, forcing his muscles to unclench and stamping out the urge to punch something. That wouldn’t solve anything, anyway.</p><p>Finally, Miroku sighs and bows his head. “Very well.”</p><p>Inuyasha looks away, his throat feeling thick. He’s used to it by now.</p><hr/><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>“Keh. Why wouldn’t I be?”</p><p>“...well, I assume you heard—”</p><p>“Yeah? And what of it?”</p><p>“Are you not bothered by it?”</p><p>“Who cares.”</p><p>“I see.” Pause. “However, I still wish to apologize for not being more vocal.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“From now on I’m going to settle payment up front. That way I can say something next time.”</p><p>“...do whatever you want.”</p><hr/><p>The next time their client makes a particularly unseemly remark in Inuyasha’s direction, Miroku only smiles with a perfect cross between <em>May Buddha light your path</em> and <em>Fuck you to all sixteen hells, good sir</em> before starting to walk away. And while the client blinks dumbly at the turn of events, the monk tuts disapprovingly and makes some loud, lamenting remark about coming all this way for nothing—because <em>clearly</em> these people don’t want their help.</p><p>After much begging and pleading and apologizing (and, after he waves his jangling shakujou in Inuyasha’s direction, a show of reverence that is deeply uncomfortable and yet vindictively satisfying), Miroku raises his brow placidly.</p><p>“What do you think, my friend?” the monk asks with the smirk of a man too good at what he does to be saintly.</p><p>Inuyasha looks away, his throat feeling thick, and smothers his gratitude beneath an annoyed huff. “Fucking monk. Quit bein’ stingy—and quit askin’ so much.”</p><p>“I don’t believe I am asking much at all,” Miroku replies, knowingly.</p><p>Honestly. What a bastard.</p><hr/><p>Later, after the villagers are thanking them both (both!) rather heartily, and Miroku is basking in it like the total showboat he is, Inuyasha stands there, arms crossed in the sleeves of his suikan, and basks alongside him.</p><p><em>Damn</em>, he thinks to himself.<em> I could get used to this.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just some good InuMir friendship. Enjoy.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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